


summer

by Withpetals_withblood



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withpetals_withblood/pseuds/Withpetals_withblood
Summary: Summer is hot and strange. Adam is at the Barns, because where else would he be?





	

Summer was unrelenting at the Barns.

Heat climbed through the ceiling into the second floor. It clung to the ceiling beams and hovered in corners. The thickness of it crowded the bedrooms, forcing Adam and Ronan to go from room to room and open each window. At least then the passing breezes would flush whatever lingered out of the house. Sometimes they took cold showers to alleviate what the humidity left on their skin, other times they sprawled on the floor with their shirts tossed elsewhere, yelling at each other about dreamed up air conditioners and whether or not it was necessary.

On some days, Adam didn't know what to do with himself. He would study for assignments that hadn't come yet, flip through books he'd already read for the semester ahead. Ronan would work with the animals, fix up some of the smaller barns. He worked on his flourishing garden, which was cheating since he'd dreamed the seeds, and he'd also added a chicken coop. The chickens had blue feet and purple beaks. They all had names from 80's hair metal bands, which Adam thought was hilarious and impressive.

On other days, Adam didn't know what to do with himself, but Ronan did.

Days like today, a Sunday, after Ronan had woken up before sunrise and whispered that he'd be back in a few hours, Adam wondered of himself and this place. Adam had stayed in bed while Ronan drove to church, he'd dozed on and off as the morning warmth turned into mid-morning heat, comfortable with the sunlight coming in through the window and onto the bed. He listened to wind rustle tall grass, to bells chime around hefty cow-necks in the pasture. Here, everything slowed. Here, everything felt at odds with itself, as if Adam might close his eyes and wake up in another bed, in another room, skin cold and summer gone. Maybe it wasn't _here_ that felt at odds. Maybe it was Adam.

Things were too good.  
Things were too sound.  
Things were too, _too._

He heard car tires dig through the gravel outside and kept his eyes closed, even as Ronan opened the front door, even as he walked up the stairs.

Ronan opened the bedroom door slowly, and when he stepped inside, Adam turned to face him. Ronan's shirt was petal white. His tie fastened properly, a deep navy, the same color of Ronan's eyes, lit behind darkness. He traced Adam with a patient gaze, his expression unreadable. 

Adam didn't know what to say. He was above the covers, shirtless, in a pair of Ronan's boxers, wondering if they would ever _be_ more than what they were. Two boys who kissed sometimes, two boys who got ahead of themselves and reached down each others pants sometimes, two boys who had made out on the hood of the BMW two nights ago, and slept in the same bed, and never talked about it.

Things were too good and too sound and too too too _much_ to be spoken of, to be put inside a box. But still, Adam wondered if Ronan ever wondered. 

His arms were above his head, one had resting over his mouth. He felt his own breath against his knuckles. For some reason, it caused him to flush - the gust of his own breath, the knowledge that his mouth was empty and he wanted to fill it with Ronan's tongue, his skin, his fingers. 

Ronan kept watching him. He toed off his shoes one by one. 

Adam swallowed and slid his hand away from his mouth. _How was church_. Just say it, Adam thought. Ask him. Be done with this silence.

But the silence moved. It shifted around them, waiting, pondering. Sunlight warmed Adam's stomach and chest. He listened to the silence take shape. He heard it break around Ronan's bare feet on the wood floors, the bed dipping below Ronan's hands and knees as he crawled over Adam.

Adam opened his mouth, but there wasn't room for words. His lips just parted, and he tilted his head back, hoping to find Ronan's soft mouth, his sharp teeth and hot breath. Ronan kissed him. His tongue dipped into Adam's mouth and stroked against his own, the kind of kissing that was too slow, too deep, too wet. Adam tried to breathe, but he could barely find a reason to. Not with Ronan tilting his head, not with their lips pressing and pulling, the easy slide of their tongues between shuttered breaths. Adam tried to inhale, but he ended up sucking on Ronan's tongue. He tried to exhale, and Ronan bit his lip.

They hadn't had a day like this, but during ones that were similar to it, Adam never knew what to do. Ronan always did. Today was no different. 

Ronan kissed his jaw. He followed strips of sunlight down Adam's stomach, his lips soothing sharp nips from his teeth, his tongue laving across one nipple, then the second. Adam tried not to squirm. He tried to sit still, to let his body unwind with Ronan pulling the strings. But his hips kept shifting and his eyelids kept fluttering and he couldn't concentrate. The room was too hot. It was too good and too quiet. 

Adam took Ronan's hand from its place on his waist and pulled two fingers to his mouth. He sucked hard, scraping his teeth across Ronan's knuckles, tasting metal and holy water and wine. 

Ronan stopped what he was doing. Adam had his eyes closed, but he felt Ronan's forehead roll against his hip, the gust of caught breath pushed from between his lips. 

Adam sucked harder.

Ronan set his teeth around Adam's hipbone and bit.

"Don't make me ask for it," Adam said suddenly, slipping Ronan's fingers from his lips. He felt his cheeks heat. Embarrassment battled with want, delirious, senseless, impatient want.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Ronan confessed softly, his voice barely there against Adam's skin.

Adam had been convinced that Ronan would always know. He had to. Someone like Ronan had the answers to Adam's body etched into his bones - blueprints for how to make Adam Parrish feel like he was an acceptable sin. A set of instructions detailing the inner workings of Adam, the places only he had seen by himself, the winded, sore, needy parts of him that he'd ignored for years and years. If there was anyone who knew how to make Adam come, it was Ronan. 

Adam swallowed again. He pressed up and up, until his pelvis rocked against Ronan's chest, until the hardness between his legs could be felt and not just seen. 

Ronan leaned down. His lips brushed over Adam's boxers the lower he slid, until his knees hit the ground and his hands latched to Adam's waist and he pulled. Adam slid toward him on the bed. He lifted his hips when Ronan pulled at the waistband of his boxers, and listened to the sound they made when they hit the ground close to the door, where Ronan had thrown them. The sunlight kept coming in through the window. The sounds of the Barns were steady. Ronan's breath was on him, _on him_ , his lips trailed the inside of his thighs, his mouth settled at the base of Adam's cock, kissing the bare skin there. 

Adam didn't know what he'd been expecting. But it wasn't Ronan's mouth, warm and tender, dragging along him. It wasn't Ronan's tongue, flat and wet on the underside of his cock. Ronan lifted Adam's thighs until they were over his shoulder and moved lower, his breathing ragged between Adam's legs. He dipped his tongue across his hole, licked and sucked until Adam was trembling. Neither one of them had made a noise until then, until Ronan closed his fist around Adam's cock while he was eating him out, slowly, carefully, with drawn out movements of his lips and tongue, like he was sure Adam might change his mind at any minute.

Finally, Adam tilted his head back and moaned. It wasn't loud, but it was enough to send Ronan deeper, to make him open his mouth wider, press harder with his tongue. Adam did it again, he twisted his hands in the bed sheets, moaned and whimpered and gasped, mustering enough courage to say Ronan's name before he came, spilling white over Ronan's hand and clenching around his tongue.

Ronan didn't stop. He moved his mouth, closed his lips around Adam's messy cock and sucked hard, like Adam had sucked on his fingers. 

Adam squirmed, pawing at Ronan's shoulders. His moans turned shrill and unsteady, stomach clenched and fluttering. His orgasm lingered like the heat did, drawn out by Ronan's persistent mouth, made painful, then wonderful, then painful, then blinding. 

"Ronan, fuck, okay, okay," Adam rambled. He didn't know if the words had even came out until he heard them himself, winded and sobbed, a cluster of syllables that came out as he curled up from the bed and reached for the back of Ronan's head.

One of Ronan's fingers slipped inside him. Adam's back hit the bed again and arched.

Oh, Adam thought. _He really does know._

Because as much as this was torture, Adam loved it. 

He sobbed and thrust up, his half-hard cock a solid weight in Ronan's mouth. Ronan moaned around him and pushed in, finger curling and searching until Adam made a noise he wasn't sure of. It was high and sudden, a cry and a groan, edged from between his teeth. He opened his mouth and panted, spreading his legs wider, eyes cinched shut. The second orgasm came quicker than the first. Ronan massaged his prostate and sucked without finesse, his mouth a mess of come and spit stretched around Adam's cock. 

Ronan gagged, but only enough to make Adam's eyes roll back. He pulled off and licked around his finger where Adam's body spasmed and clenched. 

"Stop so I can do this to you," Adam said hurriedly, gasping for air. "Ronan, stop. Stop."

Ronan stopped. Adam's body twitched and flinched.

When Ronan crawled over him, Adam opened his eyes. He saw Ronan's lips, red and wet, a splash of come on his jaw, and his eyes, glassy and sharp, looking down at him. 

Adam thumbed the come away and tried to stop the shaking in his fingertips, his feet, his knees and elbows, all over him. Everything, everywhere shook. He busied his hands with Ronan's shirt, unbuttoning until Ronan tried to shrug it off. He stopped when Adam pulled on his tie, wrenching him down into a heated, open kiss. He tasted himself, the slickness of his come coated Ronan's tongue, the sharp tang of his body, his cock, his ass mingled between them.

The tie was tossed somewhere near Adam's boxers. Then Ronan's shirt was gone, the tank underneath was pushed up by Adam's wrists as he pressed his palms against Ronan's stomach and traced his scars. Ronan hadn't said anything else, but his cheeks were dark and his eyes curtained. His breaths came short and he stopped moving altogether when Adam palmed him through his dress pants, when he felt the outline of his hard cock, the damp spot where pre-come soaked through. 

Ronan kicked his pants away. Then his boxers. He laid on his back, and Adam felt him watching, knew his eyes as they tracked his movements, first to the bedside drawer, then down the bed. Adam kissed his chest. His stomach. He kissed Ronan's hipbones and his cock and listened to Ronan try to stay quiet. 

"Come up here," Ronan said suddenly. His voice was raw and graceless, un-Ronan in a way that was very, _very_ Ronan after all.

Adam took his time. He kissed up Ronan's stomach, along his ribs, sucked a nipple between his teeth until Ronan choked. Finally, he hovered over him, his lips close to Ronan's mouth, with his hand between Ronan's leg, two lube-slicked fingers rubbing circles over his hole. 

If Ronan found Adam's prostate that easily, Adam was going to find Ronan's.  
And if Adam came like _that_ from his prostate, he was going to do the same to Ronan.

He didn't know why, but he said, "Tell me how it feels."

Ronan swallowed hard and shook his head. His jaw slackened when Adam pushed in, both fingers at once. Ronan winced, but his expression wasn't pained, so Adam didn't stop. 

"Please," Adam whispered. He didn't take his time like Ronan had. He pumped his fingers, driving them in and out with jabs of his wrist, curling his fingers and rubbing.

Ronan spread his legs wide. He reached down to touch himself, pulling on his cock until he came. 

"I'm not stopping," Adam said.

Ronan opened his mouth and tried to take a breath. His hips lifted to meet Adam's hand, which was starting to tire. His belly was striped in come and Adam wanted to taste it. He resisted, and instead, twisted his wrist, curling his fingers cruelly until Ronan gasped and cried out.

"It feels like I'm dreaming," Ronan blurted. "This can't be real."

Ronan's voice was wrecked, sad almost. He gritted his teeth and grinded down on Adam's hand, heaving in breath after breath.

If Adam could've, he would've fucked him. Right there. After church. Saying this wasn't real. _It couldn't be._ But Adam physically couldn't - not yet, at least. Instead, he worked Ronan harder, pumped faster, moved his fingers in circles, stroked and pressed and rubbed, until Ronan threw his head back and sobbed, until Ronan grabbed for him instead of the bedsheets, until Ronan's eyelashes were wet and his mouth was shaking.

"Look at me," Adam whispered.

Ronan looked at him. His eyes were tame, glassy and pretty in the mid-morning light. His chest heaved and the muscles peeking through his skin on his abdomen kept flexing. He looked as dangerous as he always had. As beautiful and young and reckless and in love. Ronan had been looking at him like that for years, and Adam had wasted all that time _not_ doing _this_ to him. God, Adam was an idiot. He twisted his fingers and Ronan's breath hitched, cutting a moan in half. He reached around the back of Adam's head and pulled him into a kiss. 

It was a kiss and it wasn't. 

It was Ronan's breath. His voice, hoarse and true, saying, "Adam, fuck, tell me this is real." It was his lips against Adam's, and their teeth clanking. It was Ronan moaning again, rasped and sexy, before his eyes closed and he bit his own lip. 

"It's real," Adam said. He pushed in as deep as he could and rubbed until Ronan's dick twitched, and he came again.

Adam didn't move. He kept his fingers buried inside Ronan, even when he laid down beside him. He touched Ronan gingerly, one hand on his face, the other curling just so, until Ronan whimpered. 

"Give me a sec," Ronan said, and his throat bobbed. He pawed at Adam's hand until he withdrew his fingers. "Just..."

"This is real," Adam said. He touched Ronan's soft cock, and Ronan swatted him. He kissed Ronan's throat, his collarbones and cheeks, and Ronan curled into him. "Why haven't we done this already?"

"Which part?" Ronan asked. His breathing slowed. The jerks and spasms started to fade.

"This," Adam said again. "Everything."

Ronan stayed quiet. 

Adam touched himself to see if he could get hard. He could.

Ronan watched him. He nodded at a question Adam hadn't asked, and Adam lifted the backs of his knees under his arms, arched over him, and pushed into Ronan.

They fucked slow. Murderously slow. Adam rocked into him, and Ronan was too oversensitive to stay quiet. He gasped and whined, and buried his head in Adam's neck. It turned into Adam rolling his hips and Ronan trying to meet him halfway, trying to lift his waist up, to press into Adam, to find a rhythm, but he couldn't manage to. Adam didn't mind. He pushed Ronan's legs up and fucked him deep and hard, with wet breath on Ronan's temple and trembling arms beneath his legs. 

Ronan cried. Adam didn't mention it. It was only a couple tears at the edges of his eyes, and if it would've come up during this Adam would've said _it hurts the first time, I get it_ even thought he knew it had nothing to do with that.

When Ronan cried, Adam fucked him harder, faster, he fucked him until Ronan's nails dug into him, until Ronan gasped and muffled a punched out cry against Adam's shoulder. He fucked him until Ronan couldn't take it, until he whispered, "Adam, I can't," and Adam loved how weak it sounded, how private and small and tired. He came in Ronan, and it almost hurt after already coming twice to begin with.

Adam rolled off of Ronan, and they stayed like that. Ronan shaking. Adam shaking. They looked at the ceiling together, felt the heat together. 

"I could fuck you all day," Adam said softly.

Ronan nodded. "I'd let you."

"I'm coming back."

Ronan stayed quiet.

"I am, Ronan."

"You don't have to say that."

"Don't be an asshole."

Ronan's lips thinned. "I liked us better five minutes ago."

"What? When you were crying while I fucked you?"

"Yeah, when I was crying while you fucked me, Parrish." Ronan slipped out of the bed. His voice was winded and small, the same way it'd been when he said _Adam, I can't._

Adam immediately hated himself. But he didn't get up.

Ten minutes later he did.

He followed Ronan's lead and didn't bother putting on clothes. When he got downstairs, Ronan was in the kitchen with his palms on the counter top, head bowed. Adam watched him for a moment, his knees shaking, wet between his legs and on the back of his thighs. Sweat glimmered across his broad, angular shoulders, and he stared at the counter, unblinking.

Adam stepped behind him. He put his hands on Ronan's hips. 

Ronan pressed back against him. "Go ahead."

Adam slid two fingers into him and Ronan's arms almost buckled. He was oversensitive to the point of pained moans and more tears. He let Adam slide his fingers in and out, until Adam dropped to his knees and used his tongue. The chemical taste of lube overlapped his own come, and Ronan, Ronan, Ronan. When he stood back up, Ronan was trembling. He kissed the sprawling ink on Ronan's back, the raven between his shoulders, the claws and vines and darkness.

"I love you," Ronan choked. He gasped and grabbed Adam's hand, squeezing tight. 

"I love you, too, Ronan. Is that what this is about?"

"The marathon fucking?"

Adam chuckled against the nape of his neck. "No, the crying."

"No one's ever fucked me before, Parrish. It's kind of -"

"A lot, yeah."

"I never thought it'd be you," Ronan added quietly.

"It's me," Adam whispered. "And I've been... You're..."

"I'm what?" Ronan spat. He straightened up and turned to face him, leaning back against the counter.

They were both naked. In the kitchen. Covered in sweat and lube and spit and come. Adam thought it was appropriate for them, honestly.

"I've loved you for a long time," Adam said. "I just didn't know it. I've wanted you for longer."

"Did you know it?"

"What?"

"That you wanted me?"

Adam's gaze pinned to Ronan's mouth and crept lower, over his chest, his come splattered stomach, his spent cock. 

"Yeah," Adam said, and swallowed. The taste of Ronan still coated his mouth. "Yeah, but I didn't know how to do what we just did back then."

It was quiet. Adam touched Ronan's face, traced his cheekbones and his jaw. Ronan set his hands on Adam's waist.

"You're good at this," Ronan whispered.

"So are you."

"We should do it more often."

"Give me ten minutes," Adam said. A grin split across his face, and Ronan laughed, boyish and charming. 

It was Adam's favorite laugh.

"Go down on me everyday," Ronan whispered. He pulled Adam against him. 

They kissed slowly, easily.

"Yeah, fuck, I'm going to," Adam said. "Fuck me everyday."

Ronan nodded. "A few times a day."

They were naked. In the kitchen.

"I'm coming back," Adam said again.

Ronan nodded. "I know, Adam."

They took a shower together. 

The rest of the day was spent changing the sheets, doing laundry, watching the sun go down behind the distant hills, Ronan teaching Adam how to catch his fireflies, and maybe, possibly, Adam pushing Ronan against the side of the smallest barn and fucking him hard, until Ronan was gasping and whimpering and saying it again and again.

"Fuck, I love you, don't forget this. Don't ever fucking forget this." Ronan's hips grinded back and Adam pushed forward, rolling and snapping into him. "Tell me you won't forget. Say it."

"I could never forget," Adam gritted. 

The night air was humid and slick. The darkness felt thicker than usual.

Summer had just started. It was absolutely unrelenting.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry. this is short and dumb and honestly very selfish. if you enjoyed, yay!


End file.
